So I decided it was time for something other than a list. So here is an attempt at writing something substantial, unnumbered, paragraphed and cohesive.

I've been stressing lately; about what, I don't know. I'm clenching my jaw every time I stop consciously trying not to. I'm slouching, sort of cowering every time I stop consciously trying to sit up straight. Chewing my lip whenever there's not food in my mouth. And I think I may be starting to get migraines. Slight and as of yet, tolerable, but still. The light from my computer screen makes me squint to ease the pain behind my eyes.

I'm dreaming of going on a spending spree for a new wardrobe, and then skip out on the bills and travel the country with a totally new image. Skirts and high heels and lipstick. No more flats or tennis shoes or tee shirts. Wearing a silk scarf over my hair to protect it from being windblown. Big sunglasses and large floral print suitcases. Me and the world. I'm clenching again.

Nothing tragic is happening to me right now, so I don't understand my current tenseness. Life is, as a matter of fact, going quite well. I'm busy and having fun and becoming closer to friends and Hubb and I are wonderful. I just can't shake this thing that is pestering me. Neither can I pinpoint it. It's like an itch on an amputated finger. I can't find it and I don't know what is causing it and I can't do anything but let it annoy me.

Maybe it is the slowdown at work that is making me itchy. Maybe it is the thoughts and plans for trips out of the state, out of the country. Maybe I need a vacation earlier than I think. And some new dresses.

So I'm going to Atlanta in three weeks. Three weeks from today. To be with my best friend of more than 20 years, her brother, his wife. See their mom. Relax, shop a little bit, hang out with my girlfriend. Get to know her again, as her life has changed so dramatically since I saw her last in April. In Hawaii.

There is a girl I see almost every day walking to the train. She is adorable and petite and always looks so hip and put together with bright red lipstick, sharp jackets, skirts and patterned stockings. Big trendy purses. I want to be her some days. Or at least be her friend. Laughing out loud for hours on end in a hip bar drinking martinis. In another place.

Then I realize that my busy happy life is good and wonderful and real. And this is exactly where I have always wanted to be. I keep expecting tragedy, something tremendous and remarkable to send me on my way, to change the way things are. It's good and it's ok to be solid, steady, trusting of the now. But it's oh so difficult for me. And it is a struggle I can't keep myself from returning to again and again.